The Mayberry Preacher

WHEN GOD SENDS A REALLY LONG TEXT

Romans 5: 1-8
Steve Lindsley
Confirmation Sunday
April 28, 2013

Listen to Sermon

A minister friend of mine told me a story he used to share with his church's confirmation class.  A man was hiking in the mountains; and as he negotiated the precipice of a steep mountain peak, he slipped and fell off the cliff.  Thankfully, though, he managed to grab a tree limb on the way down to stop his fall – at least for the moment.

Now this man had never really believed in God all that much, but as he hung there precariously with his life literally hanging in the balance, he figured it sure wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot.  So he looked up to the heavens and called out, "Is there anyone up there?"

To both his surprise and relief, he got an answer: "Yes, I'm here,” the voice said.  “I am the Lord. Do you believe in me?" Well, no time like the present! the man thought.  "Yes, yes, Lord; I believe.  I really, really believe.  But I gotta tell you, Lord, I don’t know that I can hang on much longer."

"That's all right,” replied the voice.  “If you really believe in me, you have nothing to worry about. Just let go of the branch and I’ll take care of everything."

The man thought about this for a moment; then he looked back up at the sky and said, “Umm, is there anyone else up there?”

Faith can be a lot like that story, don’t you think?  Faith can feel like hanging over a cliff, holding onto a branch for dear life.  Faith is about taking risks, about letting go of control and handing our very lives over to God.  No time like the present.  On this wonderful day, six of our young people have made a profession of faith in Jesus Christ and have been confirmed as members of this church and of the church universal.  They’ve done this with the help of an adult mentor, who now is more of an adult friend, really.  Because as these adults will tell you, and every other adult mentor from the past ten years, the learning and growing is mutual. Together, youth and adult have journeyed over the past four months and have shared in a wonderful experience.  As a congregational family, you should be extremely proud of these young people.

Which brings me to my little dilemma.  And the truth is, it’s the same dilemma I face every year on Confirmation Sunday –  that there's really nothing else for me to say.  Because honestly, you have been the sermon for the past four months. I mean, to listen to your faith statements in last week’s session meeting; to witness you kneeling this morning and being confirmed – well, there just doesn’t seem to be anything I could ever add to that.

So I made an executive decision this past week; that I would not bother preparing a sermon.  There’s no point, really.  I figure I'd let it slide and no one would notice – after all, this is your Sunday, right?  I'd just skip a week.  I didn’t think you’d mind……

(phone rings…..look embarassed, ignore……phone rings again……)

Gosh, I’m sorry, folks – I usually leave this in my office….. (looks at phone)  Oh….wait, what…..  oh.  I didn’t know I had God in my Contacts.  I probably should take this.  Do you mind?

[(off to side).  Umm, God?  Yes, this is me.  How did you get my number…… right, dumb question…….. Yes, I decided not to prepare a sermon because they are the sermon……..No, I didn’t suffer from a case of writer’s block, I was just trying to be “cutting edge,” you know…….Yes, I agree, there is a fine line between cutting edge and stupidity.  Okay, well, then what would you suggest………Have I ever heard of “DesperatePreacher.com?  Yes, I have, actually, but I’ve never felt desperate…….Yes, I see them all looking at me.  I get your point…….Okay…….you’re going to take care of it…..okay……um, okay.  Well thanks, God, I owe you one.  No, I won’t do this again.  Okay, bye.  Or, Amen!]

Okay, well, apparently we will have a sermon today, although I’m not quite sure how…. (text sound)    Oh.  Well, here it is.  Wow.  Long text!  I think you guys ought to come sit up here with me.  Let’s check this out:

****************

Dear Samuel, Kelsey, Maggie, Alex, Megan and Philip: 

I don’t usually make a habit of giving ministers their sermons without some work on their part.  But this yahoo left me with no choice.  Although, in his defense, I can see where he’s coming from. I mean, if I wasn’t all-knowing and all-powerful, I’d probably struggle with what to say to a group of young people as fine as you, too.

You’ve been part of a great journey these past four months, what your church calls “confirmation.”  There have been three of us involved: you, your mentor, and me. Last week you met with your session and shared your statements of faith.  Today you’ve answered some questions that Presbyterians require of you, and you are now a member of my church.  Which, for the record, is pretty awesome.

But if you think your journey is finish, if you think this day marks the conclusion of your “faith travels,” think again!  In fact, the REAL journey is only beginning.  Seriously.  It starts the minute you walk out the doors of my house here, and into the great big wide world.  A new journey awaits you, and this one will last the rest of your life.

It's a journey you and I will take together – not that we haven't been hanging out already, mind you.  This next one is just.....well, it's different.  It's a little more “involved.  I'm not just some story you read about in Bible school, or some creed you memorize.  I'm someone who walks with you, before you, behind you, beside you.  This is the way it's going to be – you and me, forever.     

Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s always going to be an easy journey.  But most journeys aren’t, are they?  There will be a few bumps in the road, no doubt.  There will be a few times when you’ll struggle a bit.  But never ever forget this: I’ll always be with you.  That’s a promise.  As will your church.  You can count on them, trust me.  You can count on them to be there for you, even if “being there” is nothing more than being a familiar, comfortable place when everything else in your life is out of control.  When everything else changes, know that I don’t.  I love you, and I always will.

 

If Steve is still reading this to you – which he better be – then I’d like to take a moment if I could and thank you for believing in me.  I really mean that.  There are a whole mess of people out there who don’t – and I have to confess, when I look at the world and the sorry state it’s in, I might be a little jaded about God stuff too.  But trust me, there’s nothing more frustrating than giving your life for people – literally – and having folks not seem to care.  You know that guy or girls in your math class that you think is so awesome, but you’re pretty sure they don’t know you even exist?  That’s what it’s like for me sometimes, without the math.

And as you believe in me, know that those beliefs will change and grow over the years.  Like Steve and Shasta have told you, those awesome Statements of Faith you wrote are hopefully Word documents on your computer – which means you can edit and grow them over the years as you grow in me. In fact, here’s an idea: mark April 28th on your calendar, and like a birthday, go back every year on this day and look at your Statement of Faith.  See what things still ring true and what need updating, and then make those updates.  Never stop growing in me.

So thanks for believing in me.  But thanks for doing something else also, that is as equally important as believing – and that is following.  Oh man, I can’t tell you how important following me is!  This may sound crazy, but being a Christian is not just about beleving in something.  It’s about following too.  You remember when my boy Jesus was there and was going around finding people to be his disciples?  You remember what he said to them when he first met them?  It wasn’t, “Believe in me,” was it?  No, it was “Follow me.”  That’s the very first thing he said to them!  And that’s what I want you to do, too - Follow me!  Go where I go. Do what my Jesus did. 

Because you know what?  Here's the thing: I've got millions of people all over the planet who believe in me – and that's great, that’s wonderful.  But I don't have as many followers – people who are willing to put their faith into action, you know?  I guess they're comfortable with just keeping it in their heads and their hearts, like they’re part of some social club.  Like it’s some kind of membership card they can whip out when they need to.  They’re apparently okay with that.  The thing is, I need you to know that I'm not okay with that.  And I don't want you to be okay with it, either. 

I want you to live your life as a follower of my boy Jesus.  I want you to look for places in this world that need me, and then help me get there.  It can be helping a homeless man on the street getting a place to stay for the night.  It can be that kid who always sits by himself in the lunchroom and joining him one day so he doesn’t eat his lunch alone.  It can be the hug you give someone when they’re going through a tough time.  It can be that card you make for a homebound church member.  Trust me, once you get started, you’ll never stop discovering new ways to follow me. 

Now this doesn’t mean, by the way, that don’t need to work on understanding your faith any more.  Sorry, but you're not off the hook!  Keep reading your Bible.  Keep going to Beacons and Bible studies.  Put yourself smack-dab in the middle of a community of Christians – and not so you’ll be just like them (which drives me nuts, by the way – I don’t know where some Christians get the idea that I want everyone to be exactly alike and that differences and diversity are somehow bad things.  That’s crazy).  No, stay invested in this community of faith so that your common bond in me and in others will help you find your own unique calling.  Be involved in First Presbyterian – and not just because it's a pretty neat place, but because, from the looks of it, they like you all.  They like you a lot. 

And I guess the main thing I want to ask you on this special day is to promise that you'll stick with me no matter what life throws at you.  Believe me, I've seen it all.  I know how hard life can get.  And that’s why I promise to never, ever, ever, ever leave you.  I’ll be right there during the great times and the bad times.  You and me, we’re going to make a great team together.

So congratulations.  Congratulations, not only for who you are and what you've already done, but for who you're becoming and what you will do.  This church is proud of you.  I'm proud of you!  The real journey begins now. And I can't wait to get started!

Love eternally, God

****************

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, AMEN.

IN THE CEREAL AISLE AT LOWES FOODS

Psalm 119: 97-105; John 1:43-51
Steve Lindsley
Confirmation Sunday
April 29, 2012

Listen to sermon

So there you are, walking through the sliding glass doors of our very own Lowes Foods grocery store one weekday afternoon.  You’re there to grab a few quick things for dinner and something for breakfast next morning.  You’ve got your canvas grocery bag in hand, because you’re all green that way.  After peeking way over to the breads and seeing that, unfortunately, there are no free samples, you hang a quick left.  You walk past the flowers station and sniff in the fresh aroma; you glance over to your right to see if there’s a good Merlot or Chambourcin on sale.  

You head past the gift cards and candy and vegetables, all the way to Aisle 8 – the cereal aisle.  A few feet down on your left, you stop and ponder what you should stock your kitchen pantry with.  Your heart is saying Cookie Crisp, but your head says Fiber One, right above.  You’re lost in this all-too-familiar breakfast food dilemma when you hear someone to your right, laughing to themselves.  You glance over there.  It's some guy, mid-30's or so.  You don’t recognize him.  Nothing out of the ordinary, except that he's totally enamored with something he’s holding – a box of Honey Nut Cheerios.

You turn back to reach for the Cookie Crisp when the guy speaks, apparently to you.  He says, “Man, this is something!  Look!  You get a free curvy straw inside with each purchase!” He points to the logo across the front that reads: Curvy Straw Inside!  He seems to assume you're just as amazed about this as he is, so he continues: “And check this out - there’s a curvy straw maze on the back too.  And it’s half-price today!”

You smile at him; the kind of polite smile that says you really have no desire to continue this conversation, thank you very much.  You’re hoping he picks up on the hint.  He doesn’t.  He continues on: "You know, I love this stuff.  They come out with some new-fangled cereal every day, based on some cartoon show or something.  But there's no beating the original, don’t you think so?

“I……guess….” you reply.

“Yeah.  And it's good for you, too.  Like it says on the front: Can Help Lower Cholesterol.  The perfect breakfast food!  It's like I heard someone say one time: It’s sweet, it gives you a great start to your morning and clears the heart of evil things.  At least I think they were talking about Honey Nut Cheerios.  Maybe it was forgiveness.”

You're starting to feel a little uncomfortable.  I mean, who launches into random conversations about cereal with total strangers in the grocery aisle?  You begin looking for an out, a reason to excuse yourself.  So you say, “Yeah, that's great.  Listen, I gotta go; I'm meeting some friends for dinner.

“Oh, I know,” he responds.  “They’re already at the Thai restaurant waiting for you.  And one of them might be a few minutes late. I believe she's feeding the dog.”

Okay, now you’re freaked out!  Because the truth is that you are meeting some friends at the Thai restaurant, it is a few minutes late, and one of them has a dog she feeds right before dinner.  How in the world could he have known this?? 

You ask him his name.  And he says, “Oh, I’m sorry.  My name is Jesus.”

You're suddenly aware that you're staring at him; just staring with an expressionless look on your face and your mouth wide open.  Staring at this guy who looks nothing like Jesus, unless Jesus wore jeans and a t-shirt and walked around espousing his love for Honey Nut Cheerios.  You are totally at a loss with how to respond; and when you finally speak, the best you can come up with is, "Oh – is that a family name or something?”

He laughs and says, "You could say that.  I’ve been around for a while.  Actually, I need to be honest with you about something.  I didn’t really come for the Honey Nut Cheerios, though I love the stuff, and the curly straw looks incredible.  No, the truth is I came here to see you.”

You feel the color run out of your face, and for a second you are extremely tempted to turn and run.  But you stay.  For some reason, you stay.  And you gather yourself together and ask, “Why is it exactly that you've been looking for me?”

“Well,” he replies, “I’d like for you to follow me.”

“Follow you?  You want ME to follow you?”

“Yes,” he says. 

“But why?  Did I do something wrong?”

He laughs again – he seems to enjoy doing that.  “No, no, not at all.  On the contrary, I believe in you very much.  That’s why I’ve called you.

“I’m sorry," you say, "I don’t think I remember hearing you call me before.”

“Yeah, I know; my voice gets drowned out pretty easily these days.  You see, I've known you since the day you were born.  When you were a baby, baptized in your church, I was there.  Now you’re all grown up and taking on responsibilities and facing new challenges. Your whole life has been leading up to this moment – here in the cereal aisle at Lowes Foods. The moment when I ask you to follow me.”

You pause to soak all this in.  And you realize that if it were anyone else, you would’ve been long gone by now - out the door in a flash; maybe reporting the incident to the store manager.  But you stayed and listened, because something inside of you told you to.

“So,” Jesus says, “what do you think?  Will you follow me?”

********************

Have you ever imagined something like this?  Jesus himself, walking the streets of our little town, hanging out in the cereal aisle, searching each one of us out, simply to ask us to follow him.  You ever wonder what you would do if some man literally came up to you and introduced himself as Jesus Christ?  Would you take him up on his offer and follow him?  What does it really mean for you and me to follow Jesus?

See, I’ll tell you why I’m thinking about this today.  I’m thinking about this because this morning, we are celebrating some folks who, in different ways, are choosing today to do just that - to follow Jesus.  Earlier we recognized Bill's graduation from seminary as he answers Jesus' call to ordained ministry.  And of course, on this Confirmation Sunday, we give thanks to God that Emma, Matthew, Logan and Hunt have decided to follow Jesus by making a profession of faith and joining this church. 

And I think it's important to recognize that, while the faith they profess today is certainly rooted in this church and in the faith of all who have come before them, it is also very much their own faith.  Today they join this church because they want to - not because they have to; not because it's something that’s expected of them.  They have made a choice – they’ve chosen God.  Or, more accurately, God has chosen them, and they’ve recognized that.  And in their own way, each of them are meeting Jesus in the cereal aisle of Lowes Foods and answering his question, “Will you follow me?”

And really, isn’t that something we all do at some point in our lives, when you get right down to it?  It's not all that different from what a couple of disciples did years ago, hanging around the outskirts of Galilee, when some guy named Jesus came up to them.  Walked right up to Philip, in fact, and said, “You – follow me.”  And what did Philip do?  He went and found his buddy Nathaniel, and begged him to come meet this man from Nazareth.  Come and see, he said.  Nathaniel was skeptical, though; wondering if anything good could ever come out of Nazareth, like Nazareth was Toast or Cana or some remote part of Stokes county.  But Philip insisted: Come and see.  Just come and see.

You know, I gotta tell you, I see where Nathaniel is coming from here.  I get his skepticism and doubts.  Because to “come and see” means to give up a part of ourselves, when honestly, we’ve got a full plate already.  We’ve got school and jobs, we have play practice and piano lessons and dance competitions.  We’ve got family reunions and Scouts and meetings.  Not to mention that money is tight and so is our time.  Not to mention that following someone means really trusting them, believing in them; and do we really believe?  Do we really believe Jesus is who he said he was, who everyone else says he is?  Do we really believe the church is the body of Christ, even though sometimes the church doesn’t act very Jesus-like?

If there’s one thing I love about the confirmation journey the four of you are on, it is this:  as you prepare for the “Come and see” part; as you prepare to follow Jesus, you get to ask all those questions.  In fact, that’s precisely what Confirmation is for!  And I want you to know that you should be commended for that.  Because too many people in this world take everything at face value; believe everything that's laid before them without question.  And frankly, it's terribly easy to do that, because life sure is a whole lot simpler when everything is handed to you; everything either black or white, right or wrong, in or out.  And so I love the fact that Nathaniel is in this story, because honestly, I think most of us are very much like him.

Back to that story.  Philip takes Nathaniel to see Jesus.  And in his first words Jesus reveals a number of things about Nathaniel that even he didn’t know.  And so he is shocked, kind of like that guy in the cereal aisle; and he confesses Jesus to be the Son of God.  And Jesus’ response is marvelous: he says, “You will see greater things than these! “ I like to think today, Jesus would’ve said something more like, You ain’t seen nothing yet! 

Which reminds me of the Psalmist’s words:

How sweet are your words to my taste,
Sweeter than honey to my mouth!
Your word is a lamp to my feet
And a light to my path.

A path that leads us from this day of confirmation into the unknown – but into the unknown with our family of faith and with God.

It’s like four-year old Elizabeth once said.  Her father was putting her to bed one night; and as he tucked her in she leaned across the pillow and whispered in his ear something very profound for a four-year old.  She said, “Daddy, I don’t understand life.”  Slightly taken aback, her father fumbled with words, finally saying, “Well, honey, I don’t understand it either – but I’d say the best part is doing it together.”  And instantly little Elizabeth corrected him: “Daddy, the funnest part is doing it with God!”

Emma, Hunt, Matthew, Logan, all of us – Jesus is there, standing in the cereal aisle as Lowes Foods, waiting for us.  Waiting so when we come to him, he can interrupt our schedules and our plans, and ask us to follow him.  So come and see, my friends.  Because truly, you ain’t seen nothing yet!  In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, AMEN.

IF JESUS WAS IN YOUR CONFIRMATION CLASS.....

Luke 2: 41-52
Steve Lindsley
April 25, 2010

With a sermon title like the one for today, the one-liners are a-plenty, aren't they?

• If Jesus was in your confirmation class, he'd already know the gospel of Luke before you read it.

• If Jesus was in your confirmation class, his statement of faith would read, “I believe in me.”

• If Jesus was in your confirmation class, when you talked about Death and Dying, he'd say: “Death – been there, done that.”

• If Jesus was in your confirmation class, you'd want to cheat off his paper, but that'd kinda defeat the whole purpose, wouldn't it?

• If Jesus was in your confirmation class, no one would want to play Judas during the re-enactment of the Lord's Supper.

• If Jesus was in your confirmation class, he'd keep his mentor happy by turning water into wine.

All kidding aside, today is a special day in the life of the church as we welcome six new confirmands into church membership – none of whom are named Jesus.  Rather, their names are Aimy, Dalton, Taylor, Jack, Sara, and Anna.  But what if there was one more member in that group, the son of a Jewish carpenter from first-century Palestine?  What if Jesus was really part of your confirmation class?

It's a strange thought, I know.  We don't think of Jesus much as a kid.  In our 21st-century mindset he pretty much goes from being a baby in the manger to a full-grown man in a matter of verses.  In the four gospels of our New Testament there simply aren't many accounts of Jesus' childhood or teenage years – except one, the passage Bill read just a minute ago.

It's quite a scene to envision.  I imagine him there, all of twelve years old, the perfect confirmation age.  I see him standing in the entrance hall to the grand temple in Jerusalem.  He is one of many there, tens of thousands perhaps, as it was Passover and everyone went to Jerusalem when Passover came around.  I imagine him blending in with the crowd, not standing out in any noticeable way; except for the fact that he was all alone.  His parents weren’t with him.  They had left town a few days before, heading back home.  Apparently they had assumed their son Jesus was with their entourage somewhere and they’d come across him at some point in time. 

But he wasn't with them.  Jesus just had to be at the temple that day because he was searching for something – something he couldn't find back home in Nazareth.  Maybe Jesus was trying to learn more about himself by being in this special place, this temple to the almighty God.  I mean, that is the ultimate quest we each face, isn’t it – discovering who we are?  We spend the better part of our lives sorting it out, gaining a sense of who we are and how our life has meaning and purpose.  It is the single question that defines our very existence.

So maybe that is what motivated Jesus to hang out at the temple for a few extra days.  And we can understand that, can’t we?  Because when we ask that question of ourselves, we almost always encounter conflicting answers. Some tell us that we are what our job is, or who our family is.  Others tell us we are how many digits we have in our paycheck, or what college we get into.  Some tell us we are what we wear.  Everywhere we turn, we encounter all kinds of answers to the question of who we are.  And the more we ask, it seems like the more answers we get.  If we’re not careful, we can lose sight of things.

There's a powerful scene in the epic movie Roots where Kunta Kinte, a young African man, is captured by slave traders and taken across the Atlantic.  When he arrives on American soil, he is put through the typical ritual of being made into a slave and sold to plantation owners.  It was a brutal process.  The slave trader takes Kunta Kinte aside and begins beating him mercilessly with a belt.  And as he hits him over and over again, he yells, “Your name is not Kunta anymore, your name is Toby!  Toby is your name!”  After a while he stops and asks him what his name is.  The African man defiantly answers, “My name is Kunta Kinte!”  He begins beating him some more, all the time telling him that his name is Toby.  He stops.  “What’s your name, boy?”  Weaker this time: “My name is Kunta Kinte.”

This goes on and on, until finally, with his life hanging in the balance, he relents.  “What’s your name, boy?  What’s your name?”  He looks at his captor, defeated.  “My name is Toby.”

Doesn’t life feel like that sometimes – not to that extreme, of course, but doesn’t it feel like the world just beats our name right out of us?  We try to search for the answer to that all-important question who are we, but the world just won’t let us get there.  It tells us that we are someone different and gives us a new name that is strange to our ears.  But we hold on to it anyway, because often it’s all we’ve got.  And so we walk this earth, not really sure who we are, but certain it’s not what the world tells us.  Because that name just doesn’t sound right.

If Jesus was in your confirmation class, I think he'd want you to deal with this.  The right way, of course.  I mean, it's no wonder that we struggle with the whole “who am I” question.  Because when you ask it that way, the task of discovery, of searching for and finding one’s identity, rests solely on the shoulders of the one asking the question.  The journey of self-awareness begins and ends with the same person. That's a pretty heavy burden for any individual to bear, don't you think?

Which is why I think we should follow Jesus' lead.  Maybe, just maybe, we've been asking the wrong question all along.  Maybe the real question is not “who am I” but “whose am I.”  Do you see the difference?  It shifts the whole dynamic because we do not bear sole responsibility for coming up with the answer.  We don't have to create something out of nothing.  The journey that leads us to the answer is shared with someone else – the one to whom we belong.

And you know, the more I think about it, the more I believe that’s what Jesus was busy doing at the temple those three days– asking himself, whose am I.  His parents hightailed it back to the city when they discovered he was not with their group of travelers, as they had thought.  They made their way to the temple only because they didn’t know where else to go – and there he was, twelve-year old Jesus, sitting in the portico talking it up with the rabbis.  They ran to him, not sure if they wanted to hug him or choke him.  And it was his him Mom who spoke first, asking Jesus why he had put her and Joseph through this nightmare. 

What came out of Jesus’ mouth was surely not what they were expecting.  With every bit of seriousness, and even the slightest tinge of surprise that they would ask such a thing, Jesus answered their question with a question of his own: Did you not know I would be in my Father’s house?  Did you catch that?  His “father’s house” – not the house of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and all his forebears.  Not even God’s house.  His Father’s house.  Jesus had found his identity those three days not by asking “who am I” but ”whose am I.”  He was God’s son, he was God’s child.  And that temple was his Father’s house.  Jesus had been searching to discover who he belonged to, and now he knew – he belonged to God. 

Today in this worship service we have witnessed six wonderful young people make a profession of faith in Jesus Christ and join our church family.  And a large part of the journey that has led them to this today, and the even more important journey that is yet to come, a large part of all of that is forever intertwined in that single truth Jesus discovered long ago.  We belong to God.  It is who we are at the very core of our being; the foundation of everything we believe in and everything we do.

But sometimes I wonder to myself – do we really know that?  We may know it here (point to head).  But do we know it here (point to heart)?  Do we really know whose we are?  When we wake up every morning and head out into the day ahead of us, whatever that day brings, do we truly know who we belong to?  That we do not belong to our job or our school or our social clubs?  That we do not belong to our past sins or the mistakes we’ve made or the guilt that grabs hold of us?  That we do not belong to each other; that we certainly do not belong to ourselves?  Do we know, with every conviction in our heart, that ultimately we belong to God and are now, and always will be, a child of God? 

Do we really know that?  Jesus did.  And not because he had some super-human powers being God's son and all.  He knew whose he was because he grounded himself in the faith of his parents, the faith of his community, the faith of his people.  He asked questions.  He built relationships.  And he followed his calling, living out that faith in real life for everyone to see.

And that's not something that's just reserved for the Prince of Peace, you know.  All joking aside, if Jesus really were in your confirmation class, I'm not so sure he'd look or act all that different.  Later, maybe; but not at twelve.  Because what he had going for him at that age is the same thing you have going for you.  You, too, are called by God, claimed by God, baptized into God and into the family of faith.  And that sort of thing stays with you for a long, long, long time.

Which is good to know, incidentally.  Because sometimes the world will try to tell you who you are.  Sometimes the world wants you to believe that you are defined by things which bear little meaning to what really matters.  But you know differently, don't you?  You know there’s something else that makes up who you are.  You may forget it from time to time; we all do. 

But God doesn’t.  You are God’s child.  You belong to God.  In everything we do in life, with every day we walk this earth, let us never, ever forget whose we are.  Thanks be to God.  AMEN.